


our fate, our future

by bittersweetwhimsy



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Historical AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 01:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16506650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersweetwhimsy/pseuds/bittersweetwhimsy
Summary: Had fates been kinder, maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this.Wonwoo watches the scene from afar.The man at the center of the grounds stands proudly. Only his hands betray his nervousness, quivering at his sides.The head guard reads the man’s crime, “You have been found guilty of treason and murder.” Even from afar Wonwoo can see the tears threatening to coat the guard’s long lashes. The man continues after a long breath, “You are hereby sentenced to death by public execution.”Young prince Wonwoo who at the beginning did not care for the throne, but as him and his brothers grow up, he wants to rule with an iron fist.





	our fate, our future

**Author's Note:**

> hello! thank you for being curious to this fic!  
> I wanted to try writing a historical joseon au once and this is the outcome.  
> enjoy!
> 
> terms:   
> dowager queen-> the current king's mother aka grand queen

Had fates been kinder, maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this.

Wonwoo watches the scene from afar.

The man at the center of the grounds stands proudly. Only his hands betray his nervousness, quivering at his sides.

The head guard reads the man’s crime, “Kwon Soonyoung, you have been found guilty of treason and murder.” Even from afar Wonwoo can see the tears threatening to coat the guard’s long lashes. The man continues after a long breath, “You are hereby sentenced to death by public execution.”

Wonwoo closes his eyes. Behind those closed lids, he ignores all the times that he’s spent laughing in the courtyard with Soonyoung. The crickets chirping late into the night as he tried to ignore Soonyoung making silly faces at him during his studies. Those cheeks puffing with-.

“I WILL NEVER ACKNOWLEDGE HIM AS THE NEXT KING.”

Would fates have been kinder to them had he not been one of the heirs to the throne?

He doubts it.

“Execute him.”

 

It was a joyous summer the Third generation Lee king finally had a son. It had been almost ten years, since the family started producing offspring. A male child would be able to secure the throne.

That November, another son had been born to the Lee family. But this child was deemed weak and unfit for the throne with his pale skin and small frame. The king didn’t want to toss out the child either, so he would let him be raised at the palace along with the first son.

But the two boys hadn’t even experienced their first spring when another concubine had given birth to a large healthy baby boy.

Before the third son turned one, the king’s second wife gave birth to a son. The kingdom rejoiced. A legitimate male heir to the throne had finally been born.

 

His early years were full of warmth and laughter. The king would stop by his and Jihoon’s room to shower them with gifts and tales of heroic legends. Jihoon and him even had close age friends on the palace grounds to play and rough house with.

 

“Wonwoo-ssi!” A boy with squishy cheeks, slams open the sliding door to Wonwoo’s room.

“Soonyoung! Remember your position!” An exasperated Seungcheol chases after him. “Sorry Wonwoo! Jihoon!”

The smaller boy grunts his approval.

“Wonwoo look at what I caught!” He pulls out a jar filled with lightening bugs. “Now you don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Jihoon smiles softly for an instant, before shooing away Soonyoung, “Princes don’t get scared. Go release those poor creatures.”

“But Jihoonie aren’t you scared of bu-!” Seungcheol covers his mouth a moment too late.

“Jihoon you’re scared of bugs?! Why didn’t you say so? I have tons have friends that will make you less scared.” From his bag, Soonyoung produces three more jars filled with different bugs. Jihoon screeches at the jar of spiders being thrusted in his face before passing out.

“SOONYOUNG!” Seungcheol grabs Soonyoung to escape the incoming footstep of guards.

Kaeun unsurprisingly beats all the staff to their room. “WHAT WHAT!” She looks from the door entrance for a clue. In Wonwoo’s hands is a jar of fireflies. “Did Jihoon really faint from that?”

Besides her, Jooyeon stomps her way in, a hairbrush in hand, “KAEUN OUT OF THE WAY! WHAT SCARED JIHOON? I’LL BEAT THEM UP.”

“Noona it was that.” Wonwoo gently puts down the jar, to point at the giant spider in the corner of the room.

Both girls shriek and grab the boys. They run past the guards, maids, and scholars running toward them. The adults stare at the children sprinting down the hall. The children run into the newest Queen. “Children what are you causing a ruckus for this late at night?”

“A gi-giant spider! Queen Jihee!”

“Children show me where it is.” She turns to her servants telling them something. The crowd of staff disperse.

Kaeun leads the new Queen to the boys’ room. The others tail closely behind her.

“Shoe please.” Wonwoo hands her his slipper.

“HIYAH!”

 

“Soonyoung open my chestnuts!” Jihoon throws down his bowl. Soonyoung frowns, ready to cry that his own hands hurt from peeling his own.

“Prince Jihoon you need to ask nicely. Demanding things will not give you respect and allies that you need when you’re older.” Queen Jihee puts down her needle. She gets up from her chair, “Come collect the chestnuts with me and hand them nicely to Soonyoung.”

“Princes don’t need to be doing servants’ work Queen Jihee.” The king’s mother sneers from the entry way.

“Royalty are still people that need to learn that not everyone will bow down to brute force.”

The dowager queen stomps over, pulling up the Queen by her hair. Wonwoo and Jihoon look to their sisters for help. Kaeun’s hand quivers, as Jooyeon bites her lip. “Children remember that had this woman kept her lecherous ways to herself you would have servants to do all your work for you.” She throws her down. “Your lives would be vastly different had she not given birth to a boy.” The princesses rise to the queen’s aid as soon as the dowager queen leaves the room.

“It’s okay children. The dowager queen has never liked me.” She attempts to rearrange her hair.

“Mommy?” A boy with his hat on crooked over his pink hanbok, tugs on the maid for them to go closer.

The maid apologizes, “We’re truly sorry to bother you, your majesty but your son wanted to see you.”

“It’s fine. Did anyone see you two leave?” The maid shakes her head. The queen picks up her son, “Chan did you find me yourself?” The boy nods. “Children I’ll be back. I need to take Chan back to his room.”

Wonwoo can’t help but also wish to be held by the queen as endearingly as this child.

 

 

Wonwoo overhears a maid when he’s sneaking back to his room with some scrolls for him and Jihoon to read.

“The Queen is planning on visiting her parents soon.”

“I thought she didn’t have permission from the king.”

“Her father is sick and could die any minute. If I were her I wouldn’t care either. I would rush home as soon as I could.”                                                 

“Is she taking her son?”

“No way. She wouldn’t risk putting the king’s only heir to the throne in danger.” Only heir? But what about him, Jihoon, and Seokmin? They’re also the king’s sons.

“When does she leave?” A scroll slips out from his arms. “Who’s there?”

“Unnie!”

“Princess Kaeun what are you doing out of your room so late?”

“Huh? Didn’t the 3rd prince come by this way? Maybe I lost him by the kitchen?” Wonwoo can see the glare she sends him, before whisking the maids away on an impossible task.

“Jihoon!” He hisses upon opening his door.

His brother wakes up, blinking slowly. “You’re back?”

“What do you know about Chan being the only one to take the throne?”

“How come you don’t know? Chan is automatically designated as crown prince since his mom is the king’s wife.”

Wonwoo falls to his knees. “What about us?”

Jihoon speaks slowly, “Technically speaking I think, I would be next as the eldest born of the king.”

“If you’re the oldest son of the king, then what am I?”

Jihoon looks away. “Don’t you already have an idea?” Wonwoo frowns. All the hushed whispers when they were youngers when the staff thought the boys couldn’t hear. The constant disapproval from the king’s mother. Why their teachers were always harder on him than Jihoon. No one thought he would ever measure up to the standard of a prince’s worth.

 

 

At the end of the hallway, is the youngest prince peeking into each room. “What are you doing on this side of the palace Chan?”

“Looking for a place to hide!” Chan peers into the hallway. “Oh!”

“Who’s seeking?”

“Hyung! hyung!” The small voice rounds the corner. “Don’t tell anyone I’m in here!”

“Okay.” A door shuts. Wonwoo shakes his head. Since he doesn’t know who’s seeking, he’ll just stay quiet until dinner.

“Wonwoo!”

“Ah hello Jooyeon Noona. What brings you here?”

“I was looking for Kaeunnie.  She went looking for Jihoon. Do you know how to get to the scholars’ hall from here?”

“Noona it’s just down the hall. Make sure you turn left at the end. If you turn right, you’ll end up in the furnace room. Where’s Jinah and Hyerin noona?”

“Oh, Kaeun and I wanted to surprise our lady-in-waitings, so we have something to prepare at the scholars’ hall.” She smiles deviously, “See you later little brother.”

 

“Wonwoo!” Soonyoung’s hair is matted with sweat. “Have you seen Chan?”

“That’s the queen’s son, right?”

“Of course! Now have you seen him or not?”

“Not recently.”

“Crap where could he have gone? Seokmin and Mingyu haven’t found him either.”

Are they still playing hide and seek? Wonwoo is pretty sure he saw the youngest prince almost three hours ago.  He stares at the spot he last saw his brother. They should’ve found him by now had he been in the scholars’ hall- oh no.

“Soonyoung you need to check the furnace room!”

The guard’s eyes narrow, “Wonwoo if I come back with him unconscious, you’re walking a dangerous line.” The young guard dashes down the hall after throwing Wonwoo back.

 

The boy had been sleeping on top a stack of charcoal, his hanbok covered in soot but otherwise fine. They had been lucky that it was a warm autumn day. Despite that Chan turned out fine, Wonwoo got 10 lashes to his back administered by the king for not thinking of his youngest brother’s safety.

Jihoon sits next to Wonwoo during their studies for the next two weeks.

“You’re too close,” Wonwoo mutters under his breath.

“I’m tired of sitting up straight.” Their teacher glares at them from the front of the room. Seokmin attempts to sit with his back as straight as a line while leaning over to paint a poem.

Wonwoo tries not to roll his eyes with the teacher’s sights on them. “You’ve had no problems before.”

“Well now my spine hurts from extra stretching.” But really Jihoon is sitting in a way that supports Wonwoo’s back despite his ‘spine problems’.

“You need to stop adding an extra stroke and pick up your brush properly Hoonie.”

“2nd prince shouldn’t you be sitting at your desk working on your calligraphy?”

“No need teacher. I learn better sitting next to my brother.”

 

“Ouch! Soonyoung that hurts! Can’t you apply it gentler?” Wonwoo cries out after Soonyoung slaps the soaked wraps on his back for the umpteenth time.

“No. Go ask your sisters or a maid to do it.”

“You’re pouting ag-AIN! SOONYOUNG!” The wraps sting the healing wounds.

“Not pouting. It’s in your imagination.” Soonyoung replies crossly. “Besides I wouldn’t have to be doing this if you just had Chan hide in your room.”

“He chose to hide there. It’s like he’s courting death.”

“I’ll make you meet death if you keep speaking about Chan like that.” Soonyoung dips his hand in the medicinal broth.

“I’m pretty sure the reaper is coming for me already with wounds like these. -?!” Soonyoung claps his hands against Wonwoo’s cheeks, squishing them hard enough for the latter’s mouth to form duck lips.

“I don’t ever want to hear that from you. Wonnie, you’re my dearest friend. Don’t you ever try to court death with me around. We’re going to grow old together!” He grins brightly, while wiping a stray tear from Wonwoo’s cheek.

“OWOWOWOWOW!” Wonwoo pushes the former away, “Soonyoung you got the medicine in my eyes!”

Soonyoung pulls open the door, “WE NEED WATER IN HERE!”

 

 

 

“Soonyoung.”

“Yes?” The guard still stands in attention, only his eyes dart toward Wonwoo.

Soonyoung no longer acts as freely and wildly as he used to, since taking his guard position more seriously. He still misses the wild responses from the former.

“Do you have anyone you like?”

“I-I uh wait what?! Wo-wonwoo what kind of question is that?!” Soonyoung blusters through all types of responses. Wonwoo smiles at the cute flustering face Soonyoung makes trying to think up of a coherent response. “Do you?!”

“It would be unusual of me not to at this age.”

“Wonwoo!” Soonyoung loses his whole guard persona and shifts back into that pouty child whenever Wonwoo would find him first during hide and seek.

“Soonyoung-ah! Can you escort me to the library? I’ve got a guard watching Chan and Seokmin.” Jihoon approaches them.

“Of course! Wonwoo I’ll see you later!”

Wonwoo’s outstretched hand misses Soonyoung’s sleeve by an inch. The response will have to wait another time.

“Hyung!”

“Hmm?” He turns around facing Mingyu, one of the village children that came to train to be a royal guard.

The boy shyly looks up at him, one of his canines showing, “Could you help me with my footwork for stances?”

“Let’s go the practice field. Which part is awkward for you?” Wonwoo leads Mingyu.

 

 

“Hello. I’m the tenth prince of the current Emperor of China, Wen Junhui.” The boy with the high nose bridge greets the fellow four princes. The sleeves of his hanfu touch the ground.

“How come you’re here instead of the Emperor?” Jihoon asks bluntly.

If Junhui was hurt by that statement he showed no change in expression, “It’s much safer for the diplomats and lesser sons to be sent out instead. Thus, my being here.”

Wonwoo mouth gapes like a fish on land. This prince is clearly nearly their age but understands his role well.

“Was it a long journey? How long did it take? Do you have super servants that carry you all the way from China?” Seokmin’s endless barrage of questions could no longer be contained. Chan sits next to him in wide eyed excitement.

A warm high pitch chuckle comes out, “No super servants. We rest when needed. So it took us maybe two weeks.” Junhui picks up Chan swinging him, “I like this one the most.” The youngest’s laughter fills the room.

“You really don’t care about formalities much huh?”

“I don’t think there’s a need to if it’s just us kiddos.”

Jihoon huffs, “Even his vocabulary changes after spending five minutes with just us.”

“It’s fine. It just shows he’s comfortable with us.” Maybe possibly underestimating them.

“Doesn’t that mean he could die and no one would know?”

“Try if you would like.” Junhui gives them a smug smile.

“Won’t we get in trouble with father?” Chan grips Seokmin’s sleeves.

“That’s only if you can kill me.”

Wonwoo gets up to look for something to wipe off that smug grin. In the corner of the room, is a vase that he’s never been fond of.

“Hyung you aren’t actually?!”

The three younger princes gasp.  The vase shattered but none of the pieces had touched any of the princes.

“Could you try to not court death?” Soonyoung glares at Wonwoo, sword unsheathed.

In front of Junhui is a young girl with a whip brandished. Despite her soft voice, she seems to be scolding him, yanking him by the ear to a corner of the room.

“A girl?!”

“He gets a girl bodyguard?”

“Chan, girls are scary.” Soonyoung puts away his sword once he realizes the foreign guard is more focused on reprimanding her prince.

“Hyung is really scary when he’s mad though.” Chan mutters his breath.  When Soonyoung goes to check on Wonwoo.

“Dumbass.” Soonyoung smacks him lightly, “I’ve said it before.”

“Soon, your hand.” There’s a few scraps from where the shattered vase scratched his hand.

“It’s fine.” Soonyoung snatches back his hand.

“Hyung! Are you injured?!” Seokmin and Chan rush over. Wonwoo tries not to bristle at the subtle rejection.

 

 

“Ah Mingyu hyung wait for me!” Wonwoo looks up to see Chan chasing the newly appointed palace guard.

“Chan, I have to go pick up my assignment!” Mingyu jogs in place for Chan.

“But I want to practice sword fighting! Seokmin hyung is no good at it.”

“We can do that after my assignment.” Mingyu looks around the courtyard for someone to distract Chan, “Ah maybe Wonwoo hyung would be a good match for you.” Wonwoo tries to suddenly look busy staring at the rain barrel closest to him.

“Eh? Wonwoo hyung, really? But he’s- ah MINGYU HYUNG!” Chan throws himself on the ground. Wonwoo tries to ignore his youngest brother talking to the air. “I’m so bored. Even Soonyoung hyung has to go to this thing.” The youngest prince sighs, “I guess I could ask Jihoon hyung to teach me an instrument. It would look great if a king knows how to entertain guests. But father has court entertainers… do I want to have court entertainers?” Chan sits up, his green hanbok sleeves covered in dirt, “I hope Minkyung noona doesn’t scold me too much for this.” He attempts to swat his sleeves, “I need to be a king that makes sure the servants don’t have to do so many needless things for me. Its what mommy would want.” He nods to himself. “Bye Wonwoo hyung!”

He cringes, so Chan did notice that he didn’t want to babysit him.

 

Wonwoo decides to walk along the pond to clear his mind. Father scolded him in front of his brothers again. This time it was for not taking his role as eldest sibling seriously enough. The only saving grace is that Chan still isn’t a part of their lessons yet. Mother nature smiles so beautifully while he feels like a storm ready to topple over several boats. In the distance, he can spy someone sitting under the oak tree in the garden. Maybe talking to them will be better than walking around. “Mingyu what’s wrong? Do you not like your assignment?”

“It’s not that. I just thought it would be um… slightly different.” The guard sniffles.

“Were you crying?”

“No.”

“Like I’ll believe that with snot dripping down your face.”

Mingyu buries his face in his arms, “I can’t believe you have to see me like this!”

“It’s fine. Better me than any of the other guards, right?” Mingyu nods. “I’m sure you’ll be able to do your assignment to the best of your ability. You’re always earnest in completing your goals and tasks.”

A muffled ‘thanks’ sneaks out between the crooks of Mingyu’s arms.

 

A week after Seokmin’s thirteenth birthday the king gathers all his sons to his room. “Seokmin you will now receive your own personal guard.” Seokmin doesn’t dare raise his head yet.

Wonwoo frowns, only him and Chan still share Soonyoung. Jihoon didn’t receive a personal guard because he was more focused on studies and diplomatic businesses. As such the court guards rotated to guard the 2nd prince. His sisters had their own guards and maids. Why not him?

“Kim Mingyu will be your bodyguard from now on.” Was Mingyu crying because he wanted to be one of the outside palace guards rather than a personal guard?

“Fa-.“ Jihoon elbows him roughly.

“Wonwoo don’t. Father has been upset with you enough as it is.”

“I know but I don’t understand why.”

 

The leaves drift onto the pond by the youngest prince’s room. Wonwoo wonders at how Chan seems to be the luckiest of them all just by chance. He’s only twelve but he’s the first in line to gain the throne. His mother is still alive and lives at the palace. His window happens to face the most gorgeous part of the courtyard no matter what season.

Kaeun is helping Chan distinguish the different trees by their side of the palace. Everyone dotes on him, but it’s impossible to not want to help him.

If the third prince’s smile and laughter could be described as the sun, then the youngest could be described as the light spring breeze wiping away the cherry blossoms. But these days it feels more like a sea breeze, rubbing salt into his wounds and vision.

 

 

“Hey Wonwon.”

“Don’t you ever get embarrassed using that nickname?”

“Nope.” Junhui’s boyish smile flashes brightly at him. “I have something I wanna show you.”

“I really need you to stop exchanging letters with Chan and Seokmin, if you keep using slang,” Wonwoo huffs. “What is it that you only want to show me?”

Junhui plops down next the him ignoring the small table barrier. He leans over into his ear whispering, “I’ve been studying Shamanism and dark arts lately.”

His eyes narrow, “What for?”

“To satiate my curiosity. Learning only the formal arts is boring. As much as I enjoy learning about calligraphy and the guqin, it’s not enough.”

 Junhui pulls out a novel, from his robes. “Wonwoo look in there as if you’re looking at porn.”

“WHAT?! WHY SHOULD I DO THAT?!” He pushes away the other.

“Do you want Jieqiong to come in? Listen this is the only thing I can think of to get her to not listen in, is if it’s that!”

“I can’t tell if you’re super smart or just dumb.”

The prince ambassador frowns, “Well if you don’t want to see it, I’ll-.”

“No, I’m looking!” He opens the book to see swirls of red paint. “This isn’t hanja.”

“Of course not!”

“They’re more like designs that will give out a different instruction.”

“Which ones have you learned so far?”

“One for summoning creatures to help, one that will let me sneak around invisibly, and-.”

“Aren’t these dark arts though?”

“I don’t have any wish or intention to harm anyone.” Junhui frowns, “They’re considered dark because of the method to use these. I’ve heard that it can decrease a user’s lifespan as well.”

“Have you used these?”

“I haven’t had the chance to try them all. The only one I got to try when Jieqiong was training was the invisibility one.”

“What did you do with it?”

“Maybe grab some pastries from the kitchen and then tried to sneak onto the nearest wagon that would take me out of the emperor’s city.”

“Why what’s out there for you? Beautiful ladies not trying to use you for their own gain?”

Junhui stiffens, “No.” In an even quieter voice, that makes Wonwoo lean closer to the Chinese prince “My mother.”

 

Before Junhui left, he handed him a talisman that would grant one a new chance at life but warned him that the results might not be what he expects. Wonwoo stares at the ink. He barely recognizes the strokes for gate on two of the talisman. Even making talismans require neat strokes, something Junhui clearly doesn’t wish to master anytime soon. Wonwoo holes himself in a corner of the scholars’ hall, trying to find information.

Sometimes he spends hours in the scholars’ hall, other times he’s in there for weeks as if studying to become a scholar. Usually Mingyu will leave meals for him with Jihoon as the messenger.

 

 

“Wonwoo hyung!”

“Mingyu where’s Seokmin?” He realizes the young guard has shot up again in height. He’s no longer looking at Mingyu’s eyes, his eyeline hits at Mingyu’s nose now. It’s so easy to laugh that at one point in time he used to be taller than Mingyu.

“Archery lessons with Jisoo-nim. I have a question.”

“It it’s about how to make Seokmin stop sleep talking I don’t have the answer to that.”

“A-actually it’s not that.” Mingyu’s cheeks are dusted pink. “I- I like you a lot! Will you accept my confession!” He bows at a 90-degree angle, with his arms outstretched with a gift.

Wonwoo stares at the nicely wrapped box. Mingyu likes him? He can hear Soonyoung and Chan chatting around the corner, he makes his decision. “Mingyu stand up. I can’t accept your heart right now. My heart belongs to another.”

“I-is that so. Sorry to have bothered you then.” Mingyu makes a mad dash toward the archery fields.

 

“It’s been so long since it’s been just the four of us!” Soonyoung crows, his face flushed from makgeolli.

“Soonyoung you’re too loud!” Seungcheol puts away his guard hat. “We’re going to be noticed faster than the time you scared the second prince when we were children.” Jihoon glares at the palace guard for bringing that up again.

“It’s fine Cheol hyung. We’re only drinking in Jihoon’s room.” Soonyoung waves off Seungcheol’s concern.

“Did Mingyu really confess to you?” Seungcheol stares at the 1st prince.

“I never knew he likes me.” Wonwoo throws back a bowl.

“That’s because your attention was elsewhere,” Jihoon mutters. “It was plain as day that he fawned over you. Why else would he make me bring you meals for THREE YEARS?!”

“Enough of that! Let’s celebrate Jihoon’s return from his second trip!” Soonyoung starts pouring everyone’s bowl.

“How was the foreign lands?”

“Interesting. Junhui’s home land is interesting.” After a sip, he makes a face. “The alcohol there is so different from ours. I’ll have to redevelop my taste for rice wine again.”

“Prepare yourself, 2nd prince! We’ll get your taste buds back!”

 

Wonwoo pulls on Soonyoung’s sleeve, “Can you guide me back to my room?”

“But the way there is guarded and lit. You don’t need me.” Soonyoung pries off the other’s fingers.

Wonwoo resorts to the one thing that Soonyoung can’t say no to. “Soonie~.” He whines.

The royal guard sighs and turns to the others, “Good night prince Jihoon, 2nd in command Seungcheol- ssi.”

“Good night Prince Wonwoo, Soonyoung.” Seungcheol bids them off in place of the sleeping prince.

“You can’t be that drunk. I swear you drank less than I did.” Soonyoung picks up an arm to sling over his shoulders.

“Soonie~.” He keeps up the act.

“Oh my god. When did you turn into such a light weight, Lee Wonwoo?” Soonyoung huffs, but the two slowly make their way to Wonwoo’s room. Wonwoo nuzzles his head on Soonyoung’s cheek. Just being this close to him, brings him comfort. “EY, I can’t walk if you keep rubbing your head on my face.”

“Then kissies are okay?”

“Ki-kisses?” Soonyoung nearly drops Wonwoo, but recovers, “Only when you get in your bed.” The prince nods.

They enter Wonwoo’s chambers. Soonyoung gently lays Wonwoo down. “That’s a good Wonnie.” As he starts to pull away, Wonwoo pulls down Soonyoung by his collar, into a deep kiss. His lips move against the plush lips that tremble under his tongue.

All Wonwoo wants is for Soonyoung to reciprocate back. The other’s lips start moving slowly. They push back with the same intensity, opening a little for Wonwoo’s tongue to enter. The hand grips his hanbok tightly.

Outside, they can hear a sword drop outside Wonwoo’s room. Soonyoung stiffens up.

“Shit.” It’s Seungcheol. “I hope that didn’t wake up Wonwoo. Mingyu don’t sneak up on me!”

Soonyoung pushes Wonwoo away. The prince takes a good look at the other, the swollen lips frown at him. He doesn’t understand, he’s pretty sure Soonyoung likes him as well. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t be doing this. I’m your guard.”

“And?”

Guilt covers the guard’s face. “You can’t marry me. My job is to protect you and Chan.”

“You could be my consort or concubine?” The moment the last word leaves his lips, he knows it was a mistake. That last syllable, contorts the guilt to fury.

“And what? Be the only male concubine?! What about my pride as being your guard?!” Soonyoung’s fists shake, with his volume growing. “How dare you ask me to give up my role without consideration.”

“Soonyoung!”  But the guard leaves Wonwoo’s bedroom without a second look back.

 

When Jooyeon married one of the general’s sons, the king announced Chan as the crown prince. Soonyoung would be his personal guard from now on.

 

“Jungchan you’re not going to make hyung do anything strange will you?”

The King-to-be replies with a chuckle, “Only if you consider sitting beside me during banquets strange.”

“Only if you make me feed you.”

Wonwoo watches the youngest two sons interact without anything political seeming to bar them. Their bodyguards follow closely behind them, laughing in their own conversation. Soonyoung spies him from behind Mingyu. Only a simple nod is given before returning to his conversation with the taller guard.

 

That night Wonwoo unveils his mirror. He sends out four paper strips to gather intel.

 

 

 

“And what a fine King you’ll make, crown prince. We have brought gifts to celebrate your crowning.”

“Thank you Prince Junhui. Oh wait! I mean Ambassador Junhui.” The ambassador smiles at the new crowned prince. “The 3rd prince’s court will show you to your room for this stay.”

 “Sorry crown prince,” The 3rd prince bows as he enters. “I’m here to show him myself.”

“Seokmin, you’re a prince.” The king interjects.

“Father, let me show our ambassador our pride and joy of our kingdom.”

Everyone knows the king loves the 3rd prince’s bright smile. “As you wish.”

 

 

“Ambassador Junhui!”

“My sunshine!” The princes embrace each other.

“Mingyu are you still causing messes wherever you go?” Jieqiong’s eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Jieqiong?” She nods at the right pronunciation of her name. “Jieqiong, I don’t cause trouble all the time.”

“Mhmm. That’s why you’re about to trip!” She grabs the larger man by the biceps.

“Mingyu are you okay?” Seokmin turns around at the commotion.

“I tripped, your highness. Just doing my job making sure you’re safe.”

“Mingyu-ssi I would think you would need a bodyguard for yourself.” Junhui replies with a small chuckle. He makes eye contact with Jieqiong. “Mingyu-ssi I must ask you to drop or get up, I don’t think Jieqiong will be able to support you much longer.”

“Are you kidding me?! She’s not weak!”

“Mingyu don’t make a lady more exhausted than she needs to be despite her position,” Seokmin chides.

 

There’s a knock on his door. Wonwoo covers up the mirror. “Come in!” Junhui and his guard enter the room, bowing once they’re a few feet from him. “Junhui welcome back!”

The ambassador doesn’t move from his bowed greeting.

“Junhui? It’s just us in my room.”

“Sorry, Wonwoo. I heard some unsettling rumors concerning you on my return here.”

“And you would like confirmation if they’re true.”

Junhui shakes his head, “Rather do you remember that mature book I showed you a long time ago?”

“What about it?”

“Did you continue to find more literature about it to this day?”

“No. Like I wrote to you years ago it’s an impossible topic to find anything on.”

“I see. Please excuse us, I still need to greet the 2nd prince.” Junhui stands up. “Jieqiong.” His bodyguard glares at Wonwoo as they leave his room.

Wonwoo can only slam the table. He’ll have to be more careful now that Junhui and Jieqiong are at the palace now.

 

“Jihoon hyung you’re back!” Wonwoo hears Seokmin crowing the other’s arrival. “Ambassador Junhui is also here too!  Jihoon’s voice is too soft to be heard from his room. “Hyung, don’t be like that!”

Wonwoo sends out a paper spy to better see what they’re up to. From his mirror he can see Jihoon struggling to walk with Seokmin attached to him.

“Seokmin this image is unbefitting for a prince.”

“You say that, but you enjoy this. Besides how long will you get to be hugged like this again?”

“Give it two more hours before Kwon comes and searches me out.”

“I thought you already greeted our brother and father.”

How boring. Nothing worth gathering from his brothers’ mindless chatter. Usually Jihoon had some interesting news but guess not this time.

“You’re still not mad at him for that are you?”

“Of course, I am. He broke the flute that was a gift.”

“Ah that one.”

Wonwoo recalls that flute. One couldn’t really call it an instrument. It was a wooden stick that had holes carved into it. Yet it was given to Jihoon when he turned 20. God knows why Jihoon kept it.

But this gives him an idea.

 

“Crown prince!”

“Hyung!” Chan looks up from his studies, a bright grin adorning his face. “How are you?”

Wonwoo smiles politely, “I’m good. I’ve heard that you’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.”

“Oh yeah. You must’ve heard from Soonyoung hyung.” As if. Soonyoung is too busy trying to get things perfect for Chan’s crowning day. The guard hasn’t even noticed that Chan’s lack of sleep is from nightmares and not from stress of becoming Crown Prince. “I have something that will help.” He pulls out a pouch. “This is a lavender and chamomile blend of incense. They’re both used in calming down the body to help sleep.”

“Lavender? Where did you get this?”

“A friend from a western nation sent it to me.”

“Oho look at you with the big connections!”

“That’s me.” He ruffles Chan’s hair. “Make sure to light it about an hour before you go to sleep. I’ll let you get back to your studies.”

“Thanks, hyung!”

 

Controlling a puppet isn’t too difficult, but it’s still a little bit harder when it’s a live being. Wonwoo hopes that he put enough poppy in Chan’s incense burner.

 

“Channie!” Seokmin knocks on his brother’s door. “Channie it’s time for your fitting.” He doesn’t hear anything from the room.

A maid walks past with a water pitcher, noticing him. “Oh, Prince Seokmin, the crown prince’s room has been quieter than usual this morning. I knocked earlier but didn’t hear him stirring.”

“How strange. Can you stay here for a moment?” She nods. “I’m coming in!” Seokmin pulls open the door, “Lee CHAN.” The maid screams. “SOMEONE! ANYONE! THE CROWN PRINCE-!”

 

The Crown Prince had been murdered on the palace grounds, in his own room. Yet there was not a single report of suspicious activity from the night he died. The kingdom mourned for weeks. The 2nd prince had fallen ill, most likely due to finding out his brother had died adding on to his already weak constitution.

Only in his own room, does Wonwoo reveal his smile. His talismans worked. Now Soonyoung can be his and his guard alone.

 

“Soonyoung lately it feels like I haven’t been myself.” Jihoon mutters quietly.

“Well yeah. You’ve been sick in bed for days.”

“Soonie.” He coughs before continuing. “I keep having strange dreams of where I wander the palace at night and that I wielded a sword.” Soonyoung’s hands freeze. “The sword sliced people. And the very last person it stabbed them. I’m scared that I-”

The guard clasps Jihoon’s hands, “Jihoon as your friend, I beg of you to never speak of this to anyone else.” The prince nods.

 

 

Three months after the death of the King’s youngest son, the criminal had finally been brought forth. It had always been known that the second and fourth prince had never been very close. But for this to have occurred was unimaginable.

 

“Do you not have anything to say for yourself?” The king’s voice cuts through the halls.

Jihoon stands, only a commoner’s dirty hanbok is donned on him besides the rope. Rather than his proud stance that he always took when in public, his figure shrunk in on itself.

“My son of my blood and bones, what kind of injustice did you ever suffer under the hands of your youngest brother? Since you refuse to defend yourself, I will make your punishment ex-.”

“I will take him back with me to China your majesty!” The congregation stares at the Chinese prince, stunned at his proposal. Even the ambassador prince himself looks alarmed at his own outburst. He regains his composure, bowing to his knees. The man on trial, stands there, eyes wide opened at the current scene. “Your King, if I may interject. Rather than sending him to the gallows where he could surely start a coup with the prisoners there. Send him with me, and under my supervision I will be able to ensure that he will never cause a disruption in this kingdom again.”

The king stares at the duo. “What if I do not grant your preposition?”

“I will never return here to bother you or your family in this lifetime.”

Kaeun gasps. She was promised to marry him next year. Wonwoo bites his lip, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Junhui who tried his hardest to improve the relationship between his mother country and this kingdom. Why would he interfere with Jihoon’s trial? Jihoon never supported him in any of his ideas but one over the years.

“Your majesty, your health is ailing, and you do not have much longer in this world. Why not have your remaining sons still alive at least?”

“Jungchan was my pride and joy.” A deep sigh filled with the rattles of his old bones. “I have no wish to see this disgrace. I should’ve gotten rid you when you were born. Do with him what you want. But he must be brandished for his crimes.”

The king stands, the congregation bows.

Jihoon collapses once the king leaves. “Jihoon!” Junhui runs to collect the fallen prince. Soonyoung throws off his hanbok top to cover Jihoon.

“Take him to my chambers. I can treat him,” Junhui instructs Soonyoung. Wonwoo can only stand there with his fists shaking.

 

The ambassador sighs as he closes the doors behind him.

Wonwoo steps out from the shadows, “Junhui why?”

“Wonwoo? It’s late.” Junhui blinks at Wonwoo. “I’ll have Jieqiong escort you back.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow at the summons, “Junhui aren’t you on my side? I thought you would always be there for me.”

His brows furrow, “Wonwoo, Jihoon is in critical condition right now.”

“Why did you stand up for him? I thought you were there for me when I need you.”

The Chinese prince frowns, “There is no difference in your power if I was on it or not. Besides right now your brother needs tending to. Surely you don’t wish to lose another brother so soon.” The brown eyes radiate sadness upon the silence that Wonwoo gives. “I don’t know you anymore.”

Wonwoo’s hand clutches the talisman in his sleeve, “I’m still Wonwoo.”

“Not the Wuan wuan I know.” Junhui pauses, his eyes widen at a sudden realization. “You didn’t.” He backs away from Wonwoo’s reaching arm. “Jieqiong!”

A whip strikes one of the talismans Wonwoo embedded in his clothes, releasing purple electric currents all the way up her whip. She lets go of it quickly, landing next to her prince. “Damn. That was one of my favorite ones.”

“So, you did lie to my face,” Junhui glares at the prince. “Jieqiong leave now! I’ll follow when I can.”

“What would you even fight me with,” Wonwoo scoffs at this futile attempt.

“Guess you’re not the only one who learned to keep secrets through paper.” Something sharp flies out of his hand.

One flies towards his neck, which he manages to avoid by sidestepping. He barely dodges the other thing flying at his head. He looks at the throwing knives stuck in the wall. When he turns his head toward the ambassador, the latter is already gone.

 

Neither Junhui or Jihoon were seen in the kingdom since that night. Wonwoo always sent scouts of the night to be on the watch out for either of them. Rumors have it though that Jieqiong returned to China without her master. Only an additional sword that could be said to be Junhui’s adorned her side.

 

 

Soonyoung sits next to Mingyu, handing him a tray of tea.

“Thank you hyung.” Mingyu pours himself a cup. They sit in silence watching the birds fly past.

“Mingyu-ah. I’ve been thinking.”

“Remember your words.” Mingyu speaks softly. Seokmin had been locked up in his room crying for weeks, even his guard has been unable to get Seokmin to unlock the door.

Soonyoung pauses, “Would you like to visit my family with me?”

“When?”

“In two days.”

“I-.”

“Soonyoung! Mingyu!”

“Hello Crown Prince.” They bow deeply to him.

“There’s no need to bow that low to me. You two have known me for a long time.”

“You’re to be our king. Of course, we must show our respects to you, Crown Prince Wonwoo.” He bites the inside of his cheek, to stop himself from grinning like a fool from hearing those words leave Soonyoung’s lips.

“You seem quite happy today, Crown Prince Wonwoo.”

“It’s the first day of Autumn. I think it’s a fine day to be happy.” He beams at the guards.

 

Oh, how wrong he was.

 

Wonwoo reasons with himself. Of course, he has no choice but to throw Soonyoung in jail. He had caught him red-handed planning a coup. There’s only one way he would allow Soonyoung to be pardoned.

He excuses the guard in front of the cell. Soonyoung is huddled up in the center of the cell, moving his hands like they’re a crab.

“You look strangely comfortable down here.”

Soonyoung looks up, frowning, folding his hands behind his back. “I have nothing else to do.”

His hands furl around the iron bars, “I can pardon your crime if you agree to be mine.”

There’s a loud scoff. “Never. That would be betraying my prince.”

“I am also your prince. And King.”

“You?” Soonyoung’s eyes stare at him coldly, “You were my friend. I’ll never accept you.”

Wonwoo storms out.

 

After Soonyoung’s execution, no one dared to change the king’s ways. Even if no one was certain that he was sane, after all no one knew whom he consulted for his decisions. If the rumors were true, no one wanted to be cursed for life by him. Some of the staff left before the king could turn on them.

 

 

It’s said that out of all the princes, only the 3rd prince died a natural death. As natural as dying in one’s sleep could get. At the age of twenty-five.

“Jeonghan-ssi!”

“Ah Mingyu, what can I do for you?”

“You got to examine the Prince’s body, right?”

The doctor scrutinizes the guard before answering, “The cold season is a perfect time to be brewing tea don’t you think so too Mingyu-ssi?”

Wonwoo frowns. He can’t allow Mingyu to open his mouth upon learning the truth, nor can he allow him to leave.

 

The eyes that once held the utmost adoration and love for him, now burn with animosity.

“JEON WONWOO WILL NEVER BE A KING I WILL ACCEPT.”

“BEHEAD HIM!”

Mingyu’s last words ring throughout the yard. He can hear the crowd whisper ‘Jeon? Isn’t this King Taewon’s eldest son? It should be Lee Wonwoo right? What could’ve the 3rd prince’s guard be saying before his death. Maybe he lost his mind after his prince died? No Mingyu is known as the most sensible guard among the princes’ guards.’

 

Many citizens were scared to utter anything in defiance, for under King Wonwoo the walls had eyes and ears. There was blood shed every day. A rumor begin that the staff would change monthly because the amount of blood to clean was overwhelming and the floorboards’ red hue came from absorbing so much iron.

 

He’s not even thirty when he begins to cough up blood.

The long-ago warning surfaces: “I’ve heard it decreases the user’s lifespan.”

He slams his fist against the table. Everything he spent working on these past five years will all be for naught.

How can he assure that his work can’t be undone by the flow of time?

He throws his books, scrolls, and manuscripts everywhere. There’s nothing useful.

A talisman floats down amidst the papers. He picks it up, immediately recognizing those shitty paint strokes. A chance at a new life. It would be better than waiting for his body to fall apart from dark magic or being killed by the numerous enemies he’s made.

 

Possibly a still naïve version of himself holds on to the hope that this scrap of paper could save them. And possibly himself.

 

The pieces of the talisman scatter into the wind.


End file.
